


Can't go through with it

by theundeadsiren (rhoen)



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:51:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5363801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/theundeadsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on the S2E6 ending, where Simon takes Kieren to the city, where the ULA are waiting. Only, he can't go through with it.</p><p>Xmas request fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't go through with it

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd
> 
> For [jackmcknightley](http://jackmcknightley.tumblr.com/). I'm not particularly happy with it, but I hope it's better than nothing.
> 
> Slight content warnings in end notes.

**You may not take this fic and edit or reupload it - in whole or in part - without my express permission. This includes translations.**

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Thank you for respecting my wishes.

* * *

 

“Simon, you coming?”

Withdrawing from his thoughts, Simon looked at Kieren, taking a moment to remember how to respond. He nodded. “Yeah, sure, sorry.”

The feeling of anxiety was almost surreal without the full, familiar physiological effects, although the heavy, tightening sensation in Simon’s stomach was still the same. Glad his hands couldn’t sweat and give away his unease, he kept a hold of Kieren’s hand, trying to pretend everything was normal as they walked along the streets, heading further away from the centre of town.

“So how far it is? This bridge?”

Right. The bridge: the excuse he’d made to bring Kieren here, to get him somewhere secluded, somewhere where he could guarantee there wouldn’t be anyone around - at least, no one he didn’t want to be there.

“It’s a few streets away. It’s over the canal. They built one in the 19th century, but it was poorly laid and parts of it fell through - it was wooden - so they decided to make an iron one instead, and…”

Realising he was rabbiting on, Simon stopped, biting his tongue. Kieren was looking at him as they walked, smiling.

“You’re weird.”

Simon was too tense, too on edge, to realise that it was a compliment. He gaped, trying to get his brain to cooperate with processing the words, but before he could register anything Kieren had given a short, bright laugh.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down. It was hard to look at Kieren. The knowledge of what he was walking towards made it hard enough to put one foot in front of the other, but every time Simon looked up… It made his heart ache in a way he hadn’t thought possible for the Undead. The conflict between his heart and his head was almost too turbulent for his body to contain. Outwardly, he tried to remain calm and give a smile, but he could tell it was unnatural. Panic was starting to rise in him.

Abruptly, he stopped. He didn’t know how to go through with this. He had his orders - and just two streets away he would be at his destination - but it suddenly became impossible to move forwards.

Kieren stopped too, puzzled.

“Simon? What is it?”

“We have to get out of here,” Simon said, his voice oddly calm despite the fear rising within him.

“We what?” Kieren asked, looking around and frowning, clearly on edge now. Looking at him, Simon knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go through with this. He was afraid. Defying orders hadn’t even crossed his mind before, and the repercussions didn’t bear thinking about. It was alarming to realise that the bonds that had held him tightly to the cause were slipping away. He hadn’t thought that would ever happen, but it was, and the young man beside him was the cause of it. It turned out that there really was a limit to what Simon would do for the ULA.

For a horrible moment, the memory of the last person he’d loved came to mind. He’d killed her too. Simon hadn’t been able to live with that. He’d never been able to face it fully, and was always running from the weight of his actions.

He couldn’t live with another death on his conscience.

“The ULA. They’re coming. They want…”

His throat closed up, and he couldn’t get the admission out. It choked him.

Kieren’s eyes widened, realisation hitting him. “You mean… you- you brought me here?”

“I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!” Simon begged, leaning after Kieren as he tore his hand from Simon’s, taking a step back.

Cold rage darkened Kieren’s expression. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Kier, I’m sorry! Please! We have to go! Listen to me!”

Moving back another step, Kieren eyes Simon up. He’d never felt more worthless - not even when he was alive and a filth-stained junkie turning tricks for a hit. Pathetically, he tried to reach after Kieren.

“Stay back,” Kieren warned, taking another step backwards. “So where are they? At the bridge?”

Simon nodded earnestly. “There’s four of them - Julian, Nate, Catriona and Stephan.”

“And they’re expecting you to take me there?”

Again, Simon nodded. Kieren glanced in the direction they’d been walking, and then turned and walked the opposite way. Not even two steps later Simon moved after him. “Come this way,” he urged, knowing that the way they’d come was perhaps more exposed, but it also the direction the ULA members knew they’d come. It was safer to avoid it. There was a bus stop half a street away which ran frequently between the bus depot and railway. It was the best way out.

“Why the fuck should I trust you?” Kieren snapped. Simon had to walk after him, as he was already walking again.

“Please!” Simon begged. “Look…” He should perhaps explain the logical reasoning behind his plea, but instead found something else entirely spilling from his lips. “I don’t deserve it, God knows I don’t, but I want - I need - you to believe me. I can’t… I can’t cope with any more blood on my hands. I can’t cope with the thought of you…”

“And you didn’t think of this before?” Kieren retorted, clearly unimpressed. Simon could tell he was losing him.

“I didn’t know! I didn’t realise! I knew, but… but I didn’t know. It didn’t sink in until now, and oh God, oh God, oh please, oh God, please.”

He was hyperventilating, in a body that couldn’t draw oxygen and circulate oxygen no matter how much his brain demanded it. It felt like drowning, and all at once panic started closing in on him. Lost, Simon felt himself folding in on himself, doubling over and clawing at the fabric at his chest. He needed to fight it, but rational thought was fading fast, smothered by the blinding panic setting in.

Gravity shifted, and for a moment Simon thought he was about to fall on his side. Only, it wasn’t gravity. Kieren had grasped at his upper arm and was tugging, pulling him to the side.

“Fine. You get us out of here. And then you’ve seriously got to explain yourself.”

The words slowly penetrated a thick fog of fear, and as they reached him, Simon desperately grasped onto them, clinging to the only way he could see out of this.

“I promise,” he gasped, fighting against the overwhelming physical sensations assaulting him. He had to concentrate on his feet, trying not to fall over. “I promise,” he repeated, his mind still running over the words.

“Good,” Kieren said shortly. He didn’t pull Simon again, but instead waited, seemingly hoping the blinding panic gripping Simon would abate. With a purpose - a goal to work towards - it was manageable. Seventy-two long seconds later, Simon nodded.

“Let’s go,” he suggested, closing his eyes for a moment to try and steady himself. “There’s a bus goes past the street corner, and it goes to the station.”

The words were rushed and uncoordinated, and Simon wasn’t sure if Kieren heard, understood, or cared. They started walking. It was unbearably painful not being able to reach out to Kieren. Simon needed the support, and it was gone.

He knew it was his own fault. He’d not truly thought about what he’d been ordered to do until it was nearly too late. For a moment, Simon wondered if he would have gone through with it. The nausea he felt at the thought made him slow for several paces, grimacing against a sensation that shouldn’t exist, or mean anything. Simon supposed he deserved it. Glancing at Kieren, who was walking half a pace ahead of him, Simon supposed he deserved anything Kieren would throw at him, and more besides.

As they reached the bus stop and realised it would just be a two minute wait, Simon leant heavily against the lonely signpost. He didn’t know how strong he was, or what he could endure, but he was sure that he could take almost anything - including Kieren never forgiving him - because at least Kieren was still alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Panic attacks, feels like drowning, mention of Simon killing his mother, and of drug use and prostitution. All very brief.


End file.
